I'm a transplanted Brit, living in Greece for the past quarter of a century.
Long of limb, broad of beam, open of mind and impatient of nature, I can sometimes wreak havoc without meaning to.
But I MEAN well....

Monday, 24 October 2016

Kid

I am a man.I’ve crossed
continents, not years, to reach here.I’ve faced fears you
can’t imagine to get here.

I didn’t choose to put
my schoolbooks aside,but I took up my duty
with pride.I had to.What else could I do?

Be a man, they said.Be brave, be strong.I never thought it
could be wrongto become the thing they
said I should be -even though I was just
thirteen.

So here I standtrying to convince you
I’m just a kid.That there’s a little
lost boy still hidinside the man you see
before you.

I’ve made it this far.
I’m still alive.But that’s just chance.
Must I apologise?

I know you care.You sob at every
big-eyed child, smeared with blood and dustparaded ‘cross your
screens. You say “Something mustbe done.”

But those kids are
comfortably out of reach.Not in your face. Not
a threat.They’re nothing for
you to fear.In other words, they’re
not here.

I’m still a kid, despite
my man’s clothing.Don’t you know what a
teenage boy looks likeonce hormones kick in
and whiskers start growing?

I am a man.That’s what you tell
me.

You’ve prodded and you’ve
poked.Stuck your fingers
down my throat,felt my stubble,
checked my teeth,anything to excuse
your disbeliefthat I am just a kid
ripped by history from my home.